Ordinary Days
by mycinderellaheart
Summary: Just a story of a girl who tries to live a normal life despite meeting some weird people along the way. She meets a boy and without knowing it, he pencils his way into her life and later… her heart. Trory.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing.

Summary: Just a story of a girl who tries to live a normal life despite meeting some weird people along the way. She meets a boy and without knowing it, he pencils his way into her life and later… her heart.

A/N: Hey guys, this is my new story. It's a Trory for those of you who love Tristan and Rory. (Holds for a Whoo-hoo) Anyway I don't exactly know where this story is going but I do have the next two or three chapters planned out. And who knows, the rest is history so enjoy.

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Ordinary Days

Chapter 1

Imagine waking up three hours later than you should be waking up on. Well today has just been that unlucky for Rory Gilmore. Today was also her first day of attending Chilton Prep Academy. Her alarm clock has rung exactly as it should've on a Saturday morning. But no, today was not a Saturday, it was a Monday. So arriving at school was completely unexceptional at twelve o'clock. At least that's what the headmaster has said to her.

Her mother was dressed in a tie dyed pink rodeo shirt and short shorts, and not to mention, she looked like she just stepped off the set of _Dukes of Hazard_. What a great day to begin with. Note the sarcasm.

Rory found her way to the main office after searching for the past fifteen minutes. The girl she had pulled from a random group had given her the most confusing directions ever. When she got there, a stern looking woman had asked for her name.

"Name?" She asked, certainly not in the most polite voice.

"Lorelai Gilmore." She said, though she was timid of the woman she didn't show it.

The woman looked through the folder she was holding and placed it on the table next to a blond girl. Then nodding to no one in particular, she looked up to face Rory. "Ah yes, your school sent over your transcript this morning. Here's the school song, learn it, recite it, and live with it. If you sing it in Latin, you get extra credit. And here's your schedule for today." She handed her two pieces of paper. One of them was a hand written loose-leaf paper. It was her schedule.

"So do I have these classes for the rest of the week in the same order?" She asked.

"No, just for today. The printing machine broke, so come by early tomorrow morning and it'll be ready for you. Electives start tomorrow. Any questions?" The woman pushed up her specs. When Rory shook her head, and in a raspy voice, the secretary said, "Good. Welcome to Chilton Ms. Gilmore."

Just before leaving she heard the secretary ask the blond girl on the desk, "Where's the folder?"

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She felt completely alone during class. She knew it was bad enough to be labeled the new girl. Well now she has another label: the late/new girl. She arrived at her fourth period class and sat in the middle row, and when the teacher told her to introduce herself, she was suddenly hit with thirty pairs of eyes on her. Some of the girls were probably looking down at her. She didn't need to hear them say it, she already knew it. The girls here made the girls at her old school seem friendlier.

When the lunch bell rang, she couldn't be happier than to sprint out of the room. As she made it out to the door, she noticed a magnificent castle mold that was broken into pieces. She stepped closer to take a better look. Then out of nowhere an angry blond came right up to her and yelled at her like there was no tomorrow.

Weird School Weird People.

Lunch was no better, if she had just woken up four hours earlier, she would've been able to make herself a sandwich or either order a Danish from Luke's, but instead she was stuck with the Monday Meat Surprise. Poking around the 'food' with a spork, she was sure that there was no meat in this Monday Meat Surprise.

So there she was, sitting alone and sipping water from her bottle and munching on an apple. Luke would've been so proud of her. Feeling the need to use the bathroom, she took her tray and threw it in the nearest trash bin.

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"Oh my god, I'm sorry." She jumped when she noticed a hunched figure on the wall, "You scared me." She saw that he was wearing the male Chilton uniform. "Am I at the wrong restroom?" She walked over to the door and opened it to look on the other side. Seeing a picture of a stick figure with a triangle skirt, she let out a sigh of relief. At least she wouldn't be the laughing stock of the school.

"No, this is the girls' room." He said, lifting up his head from his folded arms. He was indeed very handsome with light blue hazy eyes.

"Oh…but you're a boy…well at least you appear to look like one." She rambled on.

"No, I am a male." He let out a little chuckle and held up his hands as if he was defending himself.

"I'm sorry but that doesn't make any sense on why you're here?" She furrowed her brows.

"I'm kind of hiding from Paris and the other 40 population of the females here." He replied.

"Paris the angry and straightforward short blond?"

"Yea, that's the one. I see you've met her." He propped himself up on one of the stoned sinks.

"Yea I guess. And boy was she so…" She tried to search for a word in her head.

"Rude? Sudden? Crazy?" He suggested.

"Something like that. Hold on. Wouldn't the bathroom be the place where girls come to the most?" This was definitely interesting.

"Well yes, but I don't often come here. And by the way no one ever uses the bathroom on the third floor, something about a girl killing herself here."

Her eyes widened in fear. "Are you serious?"

He tried to hide the smile that was slowly creeping on his face, but couldn't do it. "No, I'm just kidding. But Tammy Wilkins tried to slit her wrist and everyone else later on believed that it was cursed."

"What happened to her…?" Before she can finish her sentence, the boy pulled her into one of the stalls. She was just about to ask him what he was doing, but she then heard the bathroom door open. Three pairs of uniformed saddled shoes can be seen on the blue tiled floors.

"_So Brent was like 'Louise, I can't wait to get my hands on you?' And then I was like, 'Oh yea, who can ever be able to resist me?' I say he's smitten. What do you think Maddy?" _And in a 'why bother' tone,_ "Paris?"_ She eavesdropped on the girls outside. She assumed that it was Louise Grant, the blond in her forth period English class, that was speaking.

"_He so totally likes you." _A ditzy voice followed after Louise's, she guess that it was Madeline's, since Paris has more of a deeper and hard toned voice.

"_Ugh! I don't even know why I hang out with you two." _Now this voice, she knew it had to be Paris's, she remembered it when she yelled at her in front of her locker for almost nothing.

"_Whatever Paris, so how's the thing with Tristan coming along?"_ Louise asked while applying on lip-gloss.

"_What thing?" _Paris asked as if she didn't know what Louise was talking about.

"_What do you mean 'What thing?' Your crush on Tristan."_

"_I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't seen him all day, I think he's avoiding me."_

"_I wonder why?" _Even though she wasn't looking directly at her face, she could tell that Louise was rolling her eyes as she said it.

Feeling a little cramped up in the small space in the bathroom stall, she accidentally fell backwards and slammed her back on the door and let out a small shriek. Both hers and the boy's eyes widened in fear of getting caught. He hovered over her body and clasped his hand around her mouth.

"_Did you hear that?" _Louise asked her friends, making sure that she wasn't hearing things.

"_I think it's coming from the fifth stall." _Madeline said.

Paris bent her head to see two pairs of leg intertwined together in the stall, _"It's such a shame on what people do on school grounds. It's a public bathroom for god's sake."_

"_It's kind of hot. Like those romance books I read, where the boy has hot passionate sex with the girl in the bathroom."_ Louise said and Madeline followed suit in nodding her hair. _"Okay, I'm primped. Ready_?" Louise fluffed her bleached blond hair one more time in the mirror.

"_We're only waiting for you princess."_ Was Paris's sarcastic remark.

The atmosphere had gone uncomfortably silent, he still had his hand on her mouth. She looked around and saw that the once creamy white walls were now filled with sharpie letterings all around. Some of them were graduation notes. Others were mostly concerning one name. Tristan.

So who is this 'Tristan' person? What can _'Tristan Dugrey is awesome!'_ _'Tristan is so hot.' 'Tristan rocks my socks.'_ mean? And not to mention, _'Tristan Dugrey: A+.' _What did it mean? A realization came up in her mind and all of the sudden she didn't want to know.

Once they heard their footsteps walking to the door and leaving the restroom, they emerged from the bathroom.

"Close call." He let out a 'whew'. "So you're new right?" She nodded. "I'm Tristan." He offered his hand.

"Rory Gilmore." She said as sophisticated as she can and shook his hand.

"_Rory Gilmore_? Hmm. I like it." He released his hold on her hand. Glancing at his watch, he realized he had somewhere else to be.

"Uh thanks." She said, unsure of what he was saying.

"Wow can you look at the time, I have to go. I'll see you around Rory Gilmore." And like any cliché teen movie, he left the girls' bathroom before looking to his left and right, as if he was crossing the street.

Once he left, she proceeded to do what she had first come here for. Coincidentally her foot led her to the stall she and Tristan was just in. Glancing on the walls again, everything came to perfect sense.

That boy Tristan_ is_ Tristan Dugrey. The boy that was worshipped as a god on the third floor girls' bathroom wall.

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So how was it? Please leave a comment or review if you can. Strict comments are also welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nada.

A/N: Sorry for the late update, sort of based on my laziness and school work. Thank you to those of you who reviewed, I really appreciated it. And I hope to get more for this chapter. Enjoy.

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Chapter 2

Trying not to repeat today like yesterday, Rory had woken up a full hour before she was supposed to. Her hair was washed and blown out straight, not a wrinkle can be found on her new uniform, her book bag was newly organized last night, and each one of her homework were done well, very well in fact. Staring at the mirror and combing her hair, she smiled at her reflection. This was how she was supposed to be yesterday.

Taking a sigh, she placed her brush back onto the table and left her room. Now she had to wake her mom up. "Mom! Wake up, you promised to drive me to school today." She called as she climbs up the stairs to her mother's bedroom. Surprisingly her mother wasn't there on her bed.

"In here, honey." Lorelai's voice can be heard from the bathroom.

She walked towards the open room and saw her mom fumbling with the curling iron. Part of her hair was curled and the other half was straight. "You're up early. Whoa- what you'd do to your hair?"

Lorelai gave a not-so pleasant smile, "Hmm. I feel like I should be up on a stage, _Thank you so much for the Country Music Award_." She sarcastically said. "I was going to curl my hair and the stupid thing stop working. Where's your curling iron?"

"I don't have one." Rory told her as her she leaned her body on the wall next to her.

"I thought I bought you one." Lorelai stopped fiddling with the iron and threw it in the trashcan.

"Well you did, but yours broke and you took mine and never gave it back." Rory said. "So are we going yet?"

"Not with my hair like this!" Lorelai exclaimed with her hands up in her hair. "This is the last time I'm ever buying pink curling irons!"

"Its fine, no one will see you." She latched an arm around her mom's shoulder and led her down the stairs to the kitchen. "We'll call Sookie and see if she'll come and help."

"That's a good idea." Lorelai grabbed the cordless phone from the kitchen table and dialed Sookie's digits. "Argh. No one is picking up." She pressed the off button and placed it back on the table.

"Let's go to Luke's then, he'll probably help or something." Rory suggested. At this, Lorelai snorted and then lets out a laughter, "What?"

"This is Luke we're talking about, that man may sure have a lot tools on him but the only beauty product he can provide is a backwards hat." Lorelai joked.

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'_Today is going to be great; today is going to be great.' _ She repeatedly said in her head as the view of her school came in sight. Looking over at her mother, she couldn't help to suppress a smile. Lorelai sensed her daughter staring openly at her and shot her a look, telling her that it was not funny. Well, it certainly depends on how you view it.

Rory snatched out her cell phone and took a picture not so sneakily. The flash of the camera went off brightly.

"Hey, hey, hey. Enough with the pictures." Her mother scolded.

"I just want pictures to remember this day." Rory smiled innocently. It was true that in all of her mother's thirty two years of living that she has never worn a baseball cap, backwards even. "It'll last longer."

Lorelai faked a smiled towards her daughter's way. "Ok were here." She announced as she pulled up to the curb, the enormous cold building were right at their views. "I swear I saw gargoyles last time." She sat back into her seat and stared at Rory and waited patiently.

"No. No, no, no, no, no. Mom, don't do this to me now. It's only the second day of Chilton. Please come in with me." She pleaded like a five year old asking her mother to stay with her for a while longer before stepping into Pre-School.

"Honey, you know I love you right? The state I'm in, it's no good. I can't show up looking like a part of the rodeo for one day and a redneck drunk the next. People will start talking, and when it gets back to Emily she'll lecture me on a Friday night." Lorelai shivered as she spoke her mother's name through her tongue. Putting on a cheerful smile, she reached over and opened Rory's side of the door. "I'll pick you up later."

Rory closed her open jaw and unbuckled her seatbelt, "Later." She lifted her heavy yellow book bag from the back seat and gave a small wave to her mother. When she got out, she let out a sigh and made her way towards the main office. But this time, she took out the school map that the secretary had so lovingly distributed yesterday.

"Ah, Ms. Gilmore, you're here early today." The secretary told her as she entered the room.

Rory just smiled and said nothing. The office still looked the same as yesterday, except it was more hectic. The printer in the corner was furiously producing varies of copies of attendance sheets, teachers were rolling into the room carrying their thermos and making small chats with each other.

"Here it is, your schedule, freshly printed." The woman handed her a piece of paper that was still warm. "You may go now." Rory nodded and left the room, her eyes glued to the paper.

Everything seems well and in place, but as soon as her eyes hit the Wednesday column, nothing could be more wrong as what her elective was chosen as. Turning her heels, she walked right back to the office.

"Is something wrong, Ms. Gilmore?" The secretary's sultry voice spoke as she pushed her thick specs onto the bridge of her nose.

"Yes, I think my schedule has a mistake." She walked up to the table and placed the paper on top of it. "It says here that I have Art."

"I don't see a problem with that." She crossed her arms.

"The thing is, I was taking writing as my elective in Stars Hollow, but somehow I don't have that here. This must be a typo or mistake."

"Actually Ms. Gilmore, there is nothing wrong with your schedule. You may have taken a writing class in your old school, but here, Chilton is a place of variety. The students don't pick the electives, we do." She snarled.

'_Then what's the point of calling it an 'elective' when the students don't get to choose what they want?' _She thought in her head.

"Anything else?" The woman asked.

"So can I request for a schedule change?" She meekly asked.

The secretary sighed, "To have your schedule change, you must wait three months in advance and then request for it."

Rory nodded. "Thanks." She grabbed her schedule and started to head for her class as the bell rang. Students were running to classes that were at least a mile away, some were loitering behind, reapplying their lip gloss in front of the mirror of their lockers. Looking down at the third column, first row, she gave out a frustrated groan. Art was waiting for her two minutes away.

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The scent of freshly squeezed paint and charcoal hit her nostrils as she stepped into the room, canvas of paintings and drawings were hung up on the use-to-be bare walls. Rows and rows of easels where formatted in a semi circle, all facing the front of the class. Dropping her bag to the closest easel to the door, she took a seat on the stool.

The classroom was already filling up, the teacher was a middle aged woman. She had on a tan pencil skirt and white button up shirt. "Class, we have a new student. Ms. Gilmore, will you please stand up."

Doing as she was told, she awkwardly stood up before the class. Attention was something that she never asked for and will probably never be on her Santa's Christmas list. With a slight wave and faking a smile, she sat back down. Moments after her bottom touched the wood, the door swung open.

None other than _the_ Tristan Dugrey has entered. His hair was looking ever so messy and tousled, he had his tie hanging loosely on the collar of his shirt. He ditched his Chilton Blazer and pushed up the sleeves of his blue dress shirt to his forearms. With a portfolio in hand, he smiled at the teacher.

"Mr. Dugrey, you are well aware that class has started five minutes already right?" She put on a stern look.

"I'm sorry Ms. Moore, but I had traffic problems." But clearly the state of his hair tells everyone that he has once again overslept.

"Mmhm, take a seat Mr. Dugrey." Ms. Moore said as she continued on introducing the history behind art.

Tristan took a double look around the room, and only found one seat available. He strolled to his spot, placed his folder on the stand and joined the rest of the class. Looking over to his right, he grins brightly as he sees someone he hopes to cross paths with. Using his index finger he pokes her on the arm. Seeing no response, he pokes her again, again, and again.

"What?" She annoyingly answers him.

He gives her that crooked boyish smile, "Rory Gilmore, we meet again. You remember me right?"

She offers him a small smile, "Of course."

"…Ok class, today we will work on shadowing certain objects of everyday life. Hopefully it'll help you with looking things at a different perspective. I'm not looking for perfection, but how well you can be creative with it." Ms. Moore's voice spoke throughout the class.

"Questions anyone?" She looked around the room and was satisfied that no hands were raised. "Alright," She clasped her hands, "let's get started." She placed a basket of fruit on the table. She turned on the lamp that was directly next to it, making various shades and bright spots.

Rory would've gotten started but she didn't have the right equipments. She had pencils but not the drawing kind. Her paper was loose leaf and not canvases. She looked at a hand that offered her the art supplies, looking up to the owner of the hand, she softly smiled and mouthed a 'thanks'.

He smiled back and continued on with his drawing. He looked good and serious when he was caught up in his artwork. His eyebrows would flex and arch once a while and he would bite the insides of his cheek as he made a curve. The movements his hands made were immortal as if he was the water itself. Quite aware of herself checking him out, her cheeks blushed and she looked away.

When Ms. Moore came by, she had just started drawing the base of the basket. "Ms. Gilmore, I see you're sitting with Mr. Dugrey, I hope you learn a few things off of him because Tristan here is quite an artist." And with that she left to the next group.

Looking at Tristan's drawing, she was amazed by how much detail he had put in there for so little time. The arms of the basket were drawn as coiled up snakes. The apple seemed almost alive enough to be reached through the paper and grabbed out.

'_Wow, it's beautiful.'_ She said in her head, glancing over at Tristan, she felt her face heating up. _'He's beautiful…'_


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Not as much reviews as before, but it's still okay. I hope I get more reviews for this.

Enjoy the chapter, I had fun writing it.

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Chapter 3

When the bell rang, Rory stood up and gathered her things. She adjusted her backpack against her back and retrieved the pencils Tristan's lend her. Her ugly picture was right at her face, hanging on the wooden easel. The basket was crooked and looked more like a bowl, the apple was lopsided, and god knows what those grapes look like. She looked over at Tristan, his drawing made hers look more of something Babbette's cat would scratch with its own two claws.

He looked over at her, suddenly feeling foolish for looking in the first place, she looked away and waited for him to say something.

"So how's your first day of art class?" He asked as he placed the drawing carefully into his portfolio.

She turned her head slowly so she can meet her eyes with his. "Huh?" She pretended that she spaced out a bit.

"I said, what'd you think of art?" He repeated, using different words than before.

"Oh that…it was okay. Interesting at first." She said slowly.

"You don't like it." He smiled. It wasn't really a question, but more of a statement.

"No, I don't." She said shamefully.

"It's okay, I don't expect everyone to like it, that's what makes people unique, right? For everyone to have their own interests." He shrugged and stands up from his stool. He walked towards the door only to stop about a foot away to turn around and motion for her to come along.

Once they walked out of the room and into the crowded hallway, his hand shifted in his pocket like he was fidgeting to ask something. And so he did, "What's your next class?"

"Umm, let me check." She strategically moved her backpack to the front while still having one strap secured tightly on her shoulder. Unzipping her bag, she pulled out one of her folders and pulled out her schedule.

Scrolling down the third column and second row, she was happy to say that her favorite subject was next.

"I have Medina for English." She told him, and was about to stuff her paper back into the folders but his larger hands grabbed it from her grasp. "Hey!"

His eyes went down the whole column to see the other classes she had. "This is amazing, I have most of your classes."

"Really?" Her eyes seem to have lit up.

"Yea, Remy for biology, Caldecott for history, Sanchez for Spanish, and Medina for English. Everything except for geometry." He handed the schedule back to her.

"Cool, at least I'll have someone I know in class with me. Wait a minute-if you're in my class, where were you yesterday?"

"Oh yesterday." He pulled an arm behind his neck and scratched it. "I…uh… needed some time off school."

"Time off school? You mean cutting?" She said.

"Sshh! Not so loud." He looked left and right see if any teachers heard, or even worst, Headmaster Charleston.

"Sorry." She said, and reached to brush a hair back, but she noticed that she was still holding onto the pencils that he lend her. "Oh, I almost forgot, here."

"You can keep them if you want, I have a lot more at home."

She shook her head, "No, that's not right, they're yours. Not mine." She made a movement to taking his hand and placing the wooden sticks on his opened palm.

"You know, you're the only girl that has ever refused anything given by me." He gave up and jammed the pencils into the folder he was carrying.

"Well, I'm not like most girls." She smiled. And he knew for sure that she was something special.

"That I know." He muttered quietly under his breath.

"You say something?" She asked, oblivious to what he said.

"Nothing." He lied smoothly. "Oh, we're near English." He walked a bit faster, Rory who was behind had to pick up her pace to match his.

"Mr. Dugrey, it's nice to have you in class today." Mr. Medina said as he greeted them by the door.

"Yes it is sir." Tristan flatly replied.

"Ms. Gilmore." He nodded his head at her, and she said his name back.

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"_Pssh… What's the answer to question 10?" _Louise's sultry voice can be heard whispering to her ditzy fellow friend, Madeline.

Rory sat at her seat, resting her elbow on the table and leaning her head on one of her closed fist. Geometry. Not one of her favorite class. But yet not one of her worst classes either. It was just smacked right there in the middle. She was trying to concentrate on the one of the proof problems on the worksheet given by the teacher. But obviously Louise's voice made it hard to do her work.

"_I don't know, ask Paris. I'm not up to there yet."_ Madeline whispered back.

Why had she chosen this seat in the first place, she didn't know. All she knew was that she just wanted to be seated in the middle row, not too close to the front to be called a teacher's pet and not too close to the back to be thought of as a lazy student by the teacher. Louise sat right behind her with Paris and Madeline right beside her.

"_Paris…"_The whispering continued.

"_What?"_ She was only met back with Paris's annoyed tone.

"_Number ten, what is it?"_She asked again, same question but different person.

"_Do it yourself__." _She answered snottily.

The same patterned repeated for the next thirty minutes till class ended. This was the only class that she didn't have with Tristan. She didn't know why, but it made class boring. But at least she can still focus on her work.

"_Pssh…__ Madeline, what's the answer to 11."_

Mentally slapping a hand to her forehead, she can't wait till the period is over so she can head over to the lunch room. Picking up her head from the table she looked at the clock. Fifteen minutes, 32 seconds and still counting.

Right now, nothing looked more appetizing than the school lunch.

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Or not.

Rory stood next in the lunch line. The person in front of her just made a gag noise with their throat. The lunch ladies weren't helping either. They stood with their hair bunched up in a hair net, one hand on their hip, the other holding a scooper. Their face remained the same throughout the whole serving process, a stone, bored expression. The boy in front of her just ordered a stew.

Watching her take a scoopful of unidentified brown stew and slapping it onto the plastic bowl, has certainly made her appetite go away. Having a filled empty stomach, she left the line and sat on the tables far away from the popular group.

Grabbing a book from her book bag and continuing with the chapter she was left off with, she was soon caught in the trance by the adventures of Moby Dick. She imagines herself going down and through the water like Moby itself. But the bubbles were burst when a figure takes a seat right in front of her.

"You know, lunchtime is the only period you have to spend freely. Don't waste your time on reading." Tristan said as he sits down and places a brown paper bag on the table.

"Hello to you too Tristan." She remarks without taking her eye away from the book.

Watching her for about a minute, he reaches over and grabs the book away from her and folds an ear on the page she last read.

"Hey, I was reading that!"

"I never thought I was the type to be a boring company." He mocked, a slight pout going on his face.

"Well, no one knew how to break it to you." She teased.

"You can really do some damage to a guy's heart." He placed his hand on the left side of his chest. "You're done with lunch already?" She shook her head. "Did you even eat?"

"No, and before you say anything, you can't blame me, go see the food they serve and you'll know that having nothing is better than that. I swear, for a prep school, the food does suck here."

"Tell me about it. That's why," He lifted up his paper bag, "I've always come prepare." He took out a wrapped paper and unfolded the tissue paper. "You want some?"

Though it looked tempting, she shook her head, not wanting to take part of his lunch away from him.

"Oh come on, first the pencils and now this." He snapped playfully, "You have to eat, I can't even imagine myself not going through a day without food." He ripped the bagel in half from the already cut-out line. "Here." He placed the bread into her hands.

She stared at it before placing it into her mouth, taking small bites. "Thanks."

He smiled as he watches her delicately eat the portion of food he has given her.

"So there are a few things you need to know about Sanchez, when we have his class after lunch." He swallowed the bite of bagel.

"Okay." She stretched out, letting him continue with what he was going to say.

"Number one, never sit in the first two rows, he tends to spit when he rolls his 'R's. Number two, never call him Mr. Sanchez, only Señor Sanchez, he feels he's disrespected in some sort of way. And number three, whenever he's asking a question, don't ever look him in the eye if you don't know the answer. That happen to me last year, and boy did he drop my grade." He shook his head disapprovingly.

"Got it." She said, like a true reporter. "What about Caldecott or Remy? Anything I need to know?"

"Only that Caldecott is a hard core bitch and will give no mercy under any circumstances, and that Remy is tough on his work, but usually his tests are all based on the notes he gives in class." He finishes the last of his lunch and takes a big gulp of water from his bottle.

"I see." She smiles and digests everything he tells her.

When the bell rang, he stood up and waited for her. "Come on, we better hurry or all the fourth row seats will be taken. Just sit with me and you'll be fine for the whole course" He takes her by the arm and guides her through the long hallway of classes.

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"_I'll see you tomorrow."_ A perky voice says, but sadly not to her.

Rory looks around for her mother's jeep, she sees Tristan walking over to his Mustang, tossing his keys up along the way. As she hears her mother's honks from across the block, looking to her left and right, she walks fast to open up the passenger seat of their jeep.

"Hey, how was your day?" Lorelai still had on the cap.

"Not bad." She said.

Her mother just "hmmed", she looks outside her window and sees Tristan waving at her.

"Who's that?" Lorelai asks.

"That's just Tristan." She says with a smiled forming on her face.

"Probably one of those big men on campus, who rides a Porsche and dates the head cheerleader. Every high school has a Chase Redding." Lorelai sighs, reminiscing her high school years.

"_Nope. Not a Porsche or a bimbo girlfriend." _She quietly tells herself in her mind.

"Who's Chase Redding?" Rory asks.

"That's a long story to tell, are you sure you're up for it?"

"Whatever, I've got time. It's a long drive to work." She snuggled back into her seat and listen to her mother talk about the Tristan of her high school years and how she had a crush on him under her father came along and stolen her heart away.

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A nice and long chapter, reviews please.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing, seriously.

A/N: Okay, I know all of you might hate me because I haven't updated in a while. Blame it on writers block, laziness, school work, and crappy DSL modem. But hey, it's a new chapter and also a Christmas present from me to all you readers who haven't given up on the story yet. So Merry Chrismahanukwanzakah! LOL.

A lot of reviews will be the best present from you guys. So click the purple box!

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Chapter 4

Rory had been standing for an hour long, behind her own cash register. It had felt like time has been moving slowly since she's arrived to work at Josler. Josler was a supermarket that included everything from fresh groceries to laundry detergent. A bigger version of Doose's Market, except without the whole extra package of shenanigans by Taylor and Kirk.

Jo Lynn at her right was the closest to her age yet older. She's a nineteen year old single mother currently attending night classes at the community college in Hartford to support her young child. She was usually quiet with the exceptions of her coughing out loud when taking a long drag during their break.

On Rory's other side was Harold, a thirty year old man who still lived with his mother. He was the type to have the same pair of thick framed glasses from high school that had scotch tape around the broken bridge. And he did. He was nice, shy at some times, and a bit socially awkward with people.

There were some immature ones, but not as childish as Kirk. Michael and Jay were best friends since forever; they grew up loving Star Wars and model cars. Everyone in Josler knew that Jay had a thing for Jo Lynn. It didn't take a blind man to figure out, it was just that obvious. Even though Jolin knew, she never returned his feelings.

And then there was James. Hartford's very own Taylor Doose. James was a stout, short, balding man. He hated kids; Rory sometimes wondered why that man even had children. Rhonda from the meat section once told her that he liked kids till the age of five, when they start to learn how to talk, the likeness died rather quickly. Everybody wondered if his chicken mcnuggets cared about their father at all. Yeah, that's right; the man nicknamed his own kids after McDonald's most prized kiddy snacks.

But then again, maybe Josler did resemble Stars Hollow a bit too much.

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The minute hand was closely ticking to the number twelve. Six O'clock was approaching near. It was quite surprising to see how much Chiltonites she has seen here in Josler today than her whole half year of career here.

Here was how it started:

4:15

_A pair of woman arguing causes Rory to look up from the magazine she was reading. She was so engaged in the affair of Britney and Justin. _

"_Have you been washing your face with the cream I bought you?" An older woman's voice asked._

"_Yes mother, I have." An irritated voice croaked out. In fact, the voice was so familiar that she was so sure that she has heard it before._

_A pair of feet can be seen turning around the corner. Rory gasp when she saw the angry blond from the hallway. What was her name again? Paris, right. She was seen holding a pile of school supplies._

"_Well if you are using it, why don't I see some improvements? I didn't spend fifty dollars a tube for you to let it sit there in the bathroom cabinet." Her mother wore an awfully long fur coat. The type that screams to be splashed with red paint by the anti-fur protestors. _

"_Well mother, it's called stress. You would actually know what I'm talking about if you actually finished school." The younger blond snarled._

_Paris's mother turned eight shades of red, not the embarrassed type, more like she's going to blow. "When you're finished meet me in the car." Smart lady, Rory guessed that Mrs. Gellar probably didn't want to cause a scene at a public place._

_Paris let out an 'hmm', and turned her head and stared at Rory. She gave her a glare almost as if she knew Rory had been eavesdropping. The petite girl stomped her way to Rory's cash register, and practically threw her stuff on the table._

_Rory took the glue, and waved it over the price scanner and did the same to the bottles of paint. The atmosphere had become too awkward, and it suddenly becomes weirder when the shorter girl starts to speak._

"_I hope you know that the reason I'm purchasing these supplies here is because of you." Paris bitterly said with her arms crossed around her chest._

"_I sorry, I have no idea what you're trying to say here." Rory confusingly asked the girl in front of her._

"_I meant the model; you "supposedly" broke the other day." Paris inserted quotes around 'supposedly'._

"_Look, you're probably thinking that I broke that model of yours but the truth is when I saw your project on the ground it was already shattered into pieces." Rory explained while scanning a box of Popsicle stick._

_Paris's face was blank. "Funny, your innocent act is so great that I can give the Olsen twins a run for their money." _

_Rory let out a sigh. "Your total is 54.80." _

_Paris threw down sixty dollars. "This isn't over yet. Keep the change; it's only for people like you who need it."_

_Rory calmed herself down; James was standing in front of aisle two, with a clipboard in hand observing her work ethics. If she went right ahead and pounded Paris, not only would she get fired but she would start becoming the object of Michael and Jay's wet dreams._

"_You should probably go now, before you make your mother angrier at you." Rory faked a smile._

_Paris turned around to see her mother chatting on the phone and when the mother and daughter duo caught each other's eyes, the mother furiously tapped her expensive watch. "I hope you aren't going to try out for the editor in chief position for the Franklin, if you do, I'll make your life miserable."_

"_Some parting words that was." Rory mumbled under her breath._

"_Who was that girl, Rory?" Harold asked her._

"_Oh, that was just Paris, one of my most lovely classmates." Rory feigned a big smile._

"_Lovely?" Harold arched his eyebrow. "That girl doesn't seem very lovely to me. Compared to you, she's like the wicked witch to your Dorothy." _

_Rory nodded to the weird analogy. "Thanks Harold."_

"_No problem. Um, is your mom…uh by any chance picking you up today?" Harold scratched his neck._

5:15

"_You will seriously not believe what I heard about Kim yesterday." A ditzy voice can be heard walking through the automatic doors of Josler._

"_Girl, you know when you've got good news, you've got to share." Another ditzy voice said._

_Rory looked up from her magazine once again and saw two other girls from Chilton, Paris's side-kicks; Louise and Madeline._

"_Okay, so I heard this from Sam who's heard from Carla, who dates Tom, whose sister is Rachel, who was in the bathroom when Kim and her so called best friend Lynn were talking. Apparently Kim got knocked up by none other than our basketball captain Cory Hinds. And get this, Cory's dating the school slut Summer Wells." Madeline said in one excited breathe._

"_What?! No way, shut up!" Louise playfully slapped Madeline on the shoulder. "What happened?"_

"_When Summer found out, she purposely didn't catch Kim on one of her falls during cheerleading practice." _

"_O-M-G that Summer is such a bitch." Louise said, chewing her gum loudly with every word. "But she does have nice hair. Speaking of hair, I can't believe my roots are growing out." She took about five boxes of hair dye off of the rack and they walked right over to Rory's register._

"_Hey, at least no one knows you're not a natural blonde." Madeline comforted her friend._

_As Rory was scanning the boxes, she thought to herself, "Well that explains the dark eyebrows." She let out a small chuckle._

"_What are you laughing at?" Louise asked._

_Rory looked up, "No, nothing."_

"_Maddy, is it just me or does this girl look familiar?" Louise turned to her friend and questioned her._

"_I don't know, maybe a little." The pair of friends continuously stared at Rory._

"_They do know that I'm standing here, don't they?" She thought to herself._

"_Your total is thirty-one forty nine." Rory rung up their prices._

"_Hmm…I have no idea. Come on let's go back to my place." Louise grabbed her friend by the hand and left Josler. _

And now the clock was closely ticking six, thank god she only had half an hour of work left before she calls it a day. And most of all, TGIF, Rory could think of all the books she would have time to read tomorrow. She and Lane were taking a trip tomorrow to the Hartford public library seeing as Stars Hollows didn't provide the books that they wanted.

As she was staring at the huge clock that hung over the doors, she wouldn't believe who she saw walking in. Without the prep school uniform, she almost didn't recognize him. Donning a pair of Abercrombie & Fitch jeans along with a nice blue dress shirt, he looked like one of those catalog models for Tommy Hilfiger and Abercrombie itself.

As if he could feel her presence, he turn to face her with a surprised look before breaking out in a huge smile and waving his hands towards her. "Rory, hey!"

"Hi." She said in a quiet voice with a little wave of her own. He starts to walk towards her.

"Hey, I thought that was you. What are you doing here?" He leans his arm on the table.

"Well seeing as I am wearing an apron with 'Josler' stitched on the pocket and with a name tag below it, it doesn't take that much to guess why I'm here." They both smiled. "Number four."

"What?" He confusingly asks.

"You're the fourth person from Chilton I saw here today. Is there some party welcoming Chilton students that I don't know about?" She further explained, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

He shakes his head. "Not that I know of."

James walks over to the two teenagers, "Gilmore, stop yakking with your boyfriend and start working, I don't pay you for having conversation with lover boy here."

Rory blushes a crimson red, Tristan wasn't so far behind her, he reaches his arm to rub the back of his neck.

"Uh, I'm sorry about my boss."

"It's alright," He gives a reassuring smile, "Um, can you tell me where I can find some soap?"

"Oh yea, aisle three, there should be a full stock." She pointed him at the right direction.

Tristan turned his head to see her pointing towards the aisle with a big sign above reading 'SOAPS/ SHAMPOOS/ TOILETRIES'. "Thanks, I'll talk to you later." He told her while walking backwards, nearly colliding with the display of paper towels. Rory covered her open mouth with both hands when she thought the whole thing would topple over.

"I'm okay, I'm okay." He told her, she couldn't help but let out a little laughter at his clumsiness.

It was until Rory was scanning Mrs. Hanson's groceries that she saw Tristan again, standing in line. Mrs. Hanson was a fellow customer; she was also the one who purchases the most stuff in one shopping trip.

"Next!" She heard Jo Lynn called out to the following customer. Tristan happened to be the next one, but he allowed the old lady behind him to go ahead of him.

When Rory lifted the bag of tomatoes out of Mrs. Hanson's second cart she still saw Tristan standing in line. This time, Harold called out, but Tristan allowed a man holding a box of Budweiser to skip him. Rory found it suspicious, the first time he did it was probably that he was being a gentleman to the old lady. But the second time to a man with a beer gut? She didn't think so.

"Ok, there you go Mrs. Hanson. Michael here will assist you to carry your bags to the car." Rory said as she collected the change and gave the money to the woman in front.

"Thank you, dear." She placed the change into her purse and started heading towards the door, with Michael behind her, pulling the carts with him. Mrs. Hanson's heel can be heard click-clacking on the tiled floors.

"Next!" She called out; Tristan's grinning can be seen walking towards her register. "You know, I was wondering why you kept letting people skip you."

"Well, I just wanted the prettiest cashier to myself." He placed his bulk of Irish Spring soap and a can of hairspray on to the table along with a Snickers bar he just grabbed last minute.

"Aren't you quite the charmer?" She teased him.

"Hey, I'm only speaking the truth here." He tilts his head to the side. "What time are you getting off?"

"Why?" She asks, her eyes not leaving the Irish Spring box while searching for the barcode.

"I was wondering if you needed a ride home." He offered.

"No I'm fine; my mom's picking me up today. Ok," She punched a few buttons on her machine, "Your total is thirteen eighty-five."

He fished out a twenty out of his wallet and handed it to her. She took it and rung up his change.

"Here's your change." She ripped a piece of paper coming out from a small machine. "And your receipt."

"Thanks. And here," He took the Snickers bar out of the plastic bag and handed it to her along with the receipt. "A little treat from me. And if that ass of a boss of yours is accusing you of stealing, then just show him the receipt."

She took the chocolate, "Thanks I guess."

He smiled, "See you in school." He took a few steps forward before looking over his shoulders. "Oh… and Rory?"

"Yeah?" She snapped out of her daze.

"I have to say one thing before I go, if I don't, I'm going to regret it."

"Okay." She stretched out the word.

"You look really cute in that apron." He half smiled and smirked.

She was at a lost for words. Tristan left Josler a bit happy. That crimson red on Rory's face whenever she gets embarrassed was starting to become his new favorite color.

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Review, review, reviews please!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing, seriously.

A/N: I'm not dead yet, for all of you that reads this fic, but only that I am so caught up in school and that damn low grade on both my geometry and chemistry test. Hope you guys like this chapter. An update today because I'm happy! Why? I scored 4 out of 5 for my team in hockey. And everyone was cheering my name.

And as usual, reviews are appreciated.

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Chapter 5

"Ok you have to fill me in on what's been going on in that preppy school of yours." Lane said, as she and Rory stepped off of the bus. The curious tone in her best friend's voice was usually always there.

Lane Kim has been a best friend, a sister, and a shoulder to lean on for Rory. They were everything the other wasn't. From where Rory lacked in her rebellious side, Lane was the substitute. Though with an overly conservative mother like Mrs. Kim, it would make anyone break through those Bibles and cardboard rice cakes.

"So is it like The Breakfast Club?" Lane asked.

"To put it simply, it's hard enough to be in the same place with them for seven hours but to be stuck in a library, not a chance." Rory said, tipping her cup up to her lips and finishing her coffee before throwing it away at the near trash bin.

"It can't be that bad." Lane took a bite in her snickers bar, one good thing about one of these outings with Rory was that her mother was too involved in her Christian groups, if not their antique shop, to care what Lane was putting into her body.

"Oh well, you haven't exactly experienced the wrath of these Chiltonites. Especially Paris." Though being the nice person that Rory was, she could never make herself scrunch up her face with a given name.

"Why? Is she six feet tall, two hundred pounds with triple sixes tattooed on her arm?" Lane raised an eyebrow, wondering where that came from.

"More like the opposite. She's just this girl in my class that seems to not like me very much." She crossed her arms as she and Lane started to enter the library.

"Sounds just like my mother." Lane smiled.

Rory pulled the door open and allowed Lane to step in before she did. Rory did a quick sniff around, and was satisfied. Second to her favorite smell of coffee was the smell of books. She loved everything about books, everything from reading it to feeling it.

"Oh come on, there must be one good thing about that school of yours." Lane nagged to get something out of her best friend.

"Well there is this one guy, he's…" Rory started to say, but Lane's ears perked up to the mention of guys.

"Guy? Wow this must be some school you're going to, to make you talk about boys. For as long as I've known you, you've never mentioned guys before. Well except for Jake Ryan but then again, he's not even real." Lane said, catching a few 'sshh" from a crowd of glaring adults.

"Just because I don't mention guys as much doesn't mean I not interested in them." Rory whispered, picking a paperback novel off the shelf.

"He must be hot right? Of course he is, any guy who goes to Chilton is probably rich. And therefore rich equals good looking. Can you at least tell me his name?" Lane whispered back, snatching the book any from Rory's hand.

Rory gave up and turned to look at Lane. "Ok fine, his name is Tristan and he's just a friend." She snatched the book back, flipping to the first page to read. After a few lines and a nod, she closed it and held it close to her chest.

"Talking about me, aren't you." A familiar voice made Rory drop her novel. The guy bent down to help her pick it up. "Here."

"Thanks." She said. She looked towards him. "What are you doing here?"

He pulled a cart full of books behind him, to let her see. "I work here part time. What are you doing here?" He asked.

"I'm here with my friend Lane." She gestured at him. "Oh um, Lane this is Tristan." Rory watched Lane's jaw drop. A look that can easily be translated as, "That is Tristan? He is good looking. Scratch that. Hot is more like it."

"Hey Tristan!" Another voice said, footsteps walking towards them. "Here's another stack Roger told me to give you." A Korean boy recognized as Henry Cho from Rory's English class stopped right in front of them. Rory looked toward Lane, who looked like she just struck gold.

"Oh man, not another pile. I'm barely done with this one yet." Tristan sighed as Henry set the books on the fully packed cart.

"Sorry, but Roger orders." Henry raised his hand in defense. Looking over at Lane and giving her a smile. Lane melted. "I have to leave after my shift; I'm meeting my mother at church."

"Um, you don't happen to know where I can find the section for Bibles do you." Lane pushed her glasses up.

"Actually I do, follow me." Henry took hold of her elbow and lead to an unknown destination. Lane looked behind her shoulder and winked at Rory.

Rory turned back to Tristan. "You know, now that I've thought about it, how come I don't see you here if I come here once every two weeks."

"That's because," He stared at his watch before continuing, "I usually have lunch around this time." He looked back at her with a smile; she couldn't help but not smile back. "What do you have there?"

She showed him the cover.

"Ah good choice, I read that last year." He said as he started stuffing the shelf, "I remembered all these nose insults I would make up, you know, just for fun. And the best one I ever came up with was 'That's not supposed to be up there.'" He chuckled.

Rory looked confusingly at him, "I don't get it. It's a nose, of course it's up there." She squinted her nose up and looked at it.

"Just think about it and you'll see." He continued to stock up the book. When he looked back at her she still had a pure look of confusion on her face. "Ok, since you're a bit innocent, I'll just tell you the joke behind it; long noses tend to look like…" His eyes look downwards.

Her eyes followed his; it drifted downwards and stopped right at the beginning of his waist line. Her cheeks blushes a deep red, the same color in Josler. With wide eyes, she playfully smacked his arm, "Ewww."

A few "sshhs" were thrown their way; an elderly woman was silently scolding at them. Rory wondered if the woman had been listening to their conversation. Even somewhere as private and quiet as a library, can a person eavesdrop on your every saying. Rory covered her mouth and started to laugh silently. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself down, fanning herself to cool down.

"Oh wow, I don't think I've ever been glared at in the library before." She whispered to him, slightly looking at the woman again.

He handed her a book. "Well there's a first time for everything, right?" Then he explained the book, "You'll enjoy this one, it's one of my personal favorites."

_Jazz_ it said on the cover. She flipped it over and read the blurb. The book had been about an African American couple moving to New York to start a fresh life, but the male character started an affair with a teenage white girl. And everything starts to fall apart for his life when he murders her. It had been enough to captivate Rory into the storyline; it seemed like an interesting read.

"Thanks." She said softly, adding her book to the other one.

"No problem, this is my job after all." He smiled back to her.

She added a few more books to her pile as Tristan was finishing his last stack of books, handing her a few books that has caught his eye that he thought she might like. When he finished, he stood up. "Ready?"

"Oh yea, I have enough books already." She raised the huge stack of books she was carrying. "This is enough to last me for an entire month."

He took the pile off her arms and held it for her. She was about to ask what he was doing but he cut her off, "What kind of gentlemen would I be if I didn't help a lady in need? And besides, I don't mind. In fact I feel bad since most of these books are the ones that I recommended. Maybe you would've had a lighter load if I hadn't kept going."

"Oh no don't be, I love reading. A few books wouldn't mind." She said as they were walking towards the check out table. "I practically read four books each week so it doesn't matter."

He looked at her if she had something on her face. Unconsciously, she reached up to her cheek. "Do I have a mark or something?"

"No, I just think you're pretty cool." He said.

"Cool? How?" She questioned, "I'm hardly cool, and you should've seen me in my old high school. I had no friends except for Lane, and girls they tease me behind my back."

"You don't need to be liked by everyone to be cool. And those girls, they're just threaten by you because you're so much smarter than them. You're not like any girls I've known my entire life. You're independent, you don't need a man to do things for you, and you've got such a warm heart. That's cool for me." He told her, setting her books on the table in front of a blond boy.

"Hey T." The blond boy greeted him.

"Jason, go get you lunch, its okay, and I can take it from here." Tristan sat down on the seat that Jason had once occupied.

"But I already…" Jason stopped mid-sentence as Tristan cut him off.

"Just go, you'll get to see your girlfriend, across the street, just go." He turned to face away from Rory, giving a wink to Jason.

"Oh…" Jason said, catching on to what Tristan was trying to say. "Right, my stomach is a bit hungry from _staying_ here all day." He grabbed his jacket from underneath and bolted out the door.

"Don't mind him, he's a bit weird." He took the library card from her hands and scanned it." One by one, he swiped the barcode under the red beaming lights.

"If you called that weird, you should see the people living in my town." She joked.

"Really? Where do you live?" He asked, scanning the last book, he then typed a few buttons on the keyboard and waited for the receipt to print.

"I live in Stars Hollow." She answered, stepping through the detector. He took out a bag from underneath the table and shoved the books in them.

"Interesting name, I should visit there sometime." He passed her the bag.

"You should," Her eyes lit up, "I could give you the grand tour. And plus, I'll charge you for free."

"That sounds like an idea." He passed the card back to her. "You should come back more often, that way I'll be less bored."

She nodded and smiled. Lane's voice caused her to turn around. There she was leaning on the banister, two Bibles in hand along with a book on drumming, which Rory knew she would be taking care of. Henry was chatting her up, his hands gesturing happily all over the place, talking about church. She bet Lane felt thankful that her mother had been deeply committed to Christ growing up.

"I think Lane's getting a little to comfortable." She said to Tristan.

"You know what they say about Korean radar." He agreed.

"Well, I have to go, see you in school. Bye." With a small nod, she turned around and walked toward Lane.

Tristan stood with his hand up in mid-air, forming a small wave. He looked at his palm in disgust. A wave? Since when was he a waver? He has always been that kind of guy to say goodbye to a person with a simple pat on the shoulder and a light nod. But this was different. Now that he thought about it, it didn't really matter.

He snapped out of his thoughts as he heard Rory's friend quietly yelling something out to Henry.

"The last name is Kim, and we're the only ones in Stars Hollow." Lane gushed out. "Bye." Rory pulled her arm and they exited the doors, but before that, she turned around and looked at him. They both smiled at each other.

The door only opened moments later and in walked Jason, a bag of Doritos at hand.

"You know there's no food allowed in the library right." Tristan remarked, his eyes focused on the computer in front him.

"Yea well, I do have to get some work done here since I've taken my lunch break and a little snack run you made me do. Roger watches everything." He scans his eyes around the room to look for the appearance of the head of the library. "'Fess up because I know you're not the type to skip lunch, and you were quite pissed off when I had to trade lunch break with you today because Kelly demanded me to meet up with her."

Jason offered some Doritos to Tristan, which he did take a piece.

"So cousin Tris, was it because of that girl?" He asked, wondering if it was that brunette that got his cousin so tied down.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm going out to lunch." He retrieved his jacket and started to head for the door.

"Oh come on, we're family, we tell each other things. You're really not going to say anything?" Jason asked, hoping to get a bit of information.

Tristan kept walking, and threw a wave behind him. Damn, that wave was really getting to him.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, seriously.

A/N: Hmm… where to begin? Well, let me just start off by saying that I'm so sorry for not updating in more than a year, I've been too busy with my junior year and all the exams (I'm proud to say that I am done with my regents and passed every one of them.) Now that my senior year is coming soon plus the bundle of free periods I think maybe I might be able to squeeze a couple of chapters in before the year ends. To be honest, when I started this story I wasn't sure there would be a direction until I finally thought of one, so I'm pretty excited to execute that storyline on here.

Enjoy, and as usual, leave a comment. :)

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Chapter 6

There must have been some sort of angel looking out for Rory this past week at Chilton. Not only had she not come in late for class, but it seems that she's handling school and work like a pro. Which included a silent victory from answering a question quicker than the never-late-always-on-beat Paris Gellar and strangely James, her boss, didn't scold her for the jar of peach she accidently knocked over while she was ironically mopping up an already spilled jar. Yep, life was definitely good.

Now if only that angel would stick with her throughout the Friday night dinner with her grandparents. Don't get her wrong, it's not her grandparents that she's worried about; its how her mom will be behaving that's got her nervous. For a grown thirty-two year old, Lorelai Gilmore hasn't found the maturity or dining etiquettes Emily Gilmore expects.

"Alright, here it comes." Lorelai lifted her finger to the shiny brass door bell, adding the occasional _dun, dun, dun_ for dramatic effect.

Rory playfully rolled her eyes at her mother.

The maid opened the door, followed by her grandma a few seconds later.

"Girls, just on time, come on in, Richard's at the living room. Dorota get their coats." Emily greeted them.

"Yes ma'am." The maid mumbled softly and collected the coats.

When they entered the lavishly decorated room, her grandfather, who was seated at a wooden chair, folded the newspaper and straightened up his posture. He gave a smile in which his broad moustache spread against his face. As his daughter and granddaughter approached him he gave them a slight hug.

"Lorelai. Rory. Nice of you to join us tonight." He said.

Another maid came into the room and softly announced that dinner was ready. Emily nodded and gave a wave to tell the maid that they'll be in the dining room in a few minutes.

"Well, I hope you two like veal." Emily chapped her hands together.

Lorelai leaned over to Rory and sarcastically whispered, "What's better than eating a baby cow?"

Rory lightly shushed her when her grandma suddenly turned around.

"What was that, Lorelai?" Emily questioned.

"Nothing mom." Lorelai sweetly smiled at the petite auburn-haired woman in front of her. Her smiled was a little too sweet.

"So Rory, how are things going on at Chilton?" Her grandfather asked, engaging her in a conversation as they took their seats.

"Um, so far, everything has been going well. The classes are tough as I expected them to be and I quite like that it's challenging." She answered.

Two maids came out holding a plate on each hand. Temporarily distracted, Rory turned her focus back on her grandfather who looked as if he was going to ask another question.

"Say, is one of your teachers Alfred Remy?" Richard questioned.

At the name of her biology teacher, Rory's interest perked up. "Yea, I have him for science. You know him, grandpa?"

"Remy and I, we go way back. Don't let his uptightness fool you, when we were in our teenage years we use to pull pranks on the substitutes." He proudly remarks as he slices the meat on his platter.

"And I thought I was the only rebellious Gilmore of the family." Lorelai poked right in on the discussion.

"Now, now…I know that it's Rory's birthday next week," Her grandmother announced, "how about we throw you a party here. How does it sound?" Her manicured elegantly curled around the stem of her champagne flute, lifting it to her lips.

Rory froze; knowing her grandmother it would mean that everything she plans for the party would be more proper and debutante/society like. But she couldn't afford to disappoint her grandmother, so she did the one thing she had to do.

She accepted.

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When she arrived at school early in the morning on the start of the week, she felt a slightly eerie presence around her. Her classmates were glancing at her as she walked down the hallway to her beige locker. Insecurely, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears and continued to walk with her eyes focused on the ground. She felt murmurs all around her and whispers that was so loud that it seems that people were intentionally letting other people know what they were talking about.

It wasn't until she was standing right in front of her locker that she heard what the girls behind her were chatting about.

"That's her. My parents are making me attend her party so …"

Rory tuned out the noise and instead centered her mind on her combination lock. Opening the door, she took out some of the book from her bag and replaced them with some books from her locker. As she shut the door, she jumped in shock when she noticed that someone was beside her.

"Scared you?" A smooth, velvety voice said. Tristan leant against the locker next to hers, his posture relaxed yet composed.

Rory shook her head, her eyes darting left and right, still annoyed at the stares her classmates gave her.

"Have I grown another head or something? Why is everyone staring at me?" She asked him, her forehead scrunched up in confusion.

"It might have something to do with this." he waved a white invitation in the air. In his most formal voice, he read, "_You are cordially invited to the sixteenth birthday of Miss Lorelai Leigh Gilmore on Friday, October 8th."_

"Wait! Hold up, give me that!" She grabbed the invitation from his hand and scanned the small card. There it was in fine print, her full name, her birthday, and not so surprisingly, her grandparent's address.

Tristan observed her shocked face, the way she bit her lips and how her ears turned red, he knew that she had no idea what was happening. "Are you okay?" He asked her and laid one hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her when she didn't answer him.

She snapped out of her trance and faced him, "How many people got these?"

He shrugged, "Everyone in our grade probably."

Rory lightly nodded, refusing to look up at him. "I'll see you later."

Tristan stared after her form as she made her way through the crowded hallways. Though it was packed, people seemed to move away from her. He narrowed his eyes at the behaviors of his peers.

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The day had not gone well.

Her mind was too bombarded with frustration to focus on The Great Depression today. Ms. Caldecott had taken notice of her lack of attention and decided to embarrass her in front of the class by calling her to answer a question. Having no idea what the history teacher asked, Rory just sat there in silence hoping she would move on to another student.

Paris, of course, took the opportunity and raised her hand high and gave the answer, which was followed by a snigger when the teacher wrote notes on the chalkboard.

By the time class ended, Paris came by her desk and rested her palms on the surface. The petite blond lowered herself and sneered at the brunette, "Let me just be honest Gilmore, you don't belong here and you definitely don't have what it takes to be in The Franklin."

"Why don't you just back off Paris!" Another voice spoke up. She recognized it to be Tristan's.

She lifted her hand to stop him from making an argument over her, if she could ask for one thing it would be to end the spotlight on her; she hated the attention. "It's okay Tristan; I can take it from here."

She quickly packed her bags and speed-walked to her locker. She wanted to go home but she had a shift at Joslers tonight.

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It took an uneventful day at school to make her appreciate the employee room at Joslers. The medium sized space featured a non-stop blinking fluorescent light tube, a ratty old couch from James's house, a crappy vending machine that on occasions only takes but never gives, and a stench that reeks of bleach. Not the very idea of comfy but at least it brought peace-

The door slammed opened and in came a very energetic Jay, "Hey Ror, you'll never guess what I got."

If only for a little while.

The white card in hand made her groan in irritation. "Oh don't tell me she delivered it to my workplace too."

The boy in front of her raised an eyebrow, "What are you talking about?"

"My grandma sent you an invitation for this Friday right?" She pointed to the card in his hand.

"No," He stretched out the vowel, "This is a card for Jo Lynn, and I was planning on writing her a poem. But what's this suppose to do with your grandma?"

She waved her hand, "Never mind, I just thought it was something else." She got up from the couch, "I have to get back to work now, and I'll see you out there."

"Oh!" He suddenly said, as if remembering something, "There's someone asking for you outside. Tall. Blond."

"Okay, thanks."

She walked outside and found Tristan, by the frozen food aisle, still clad in his uniform. He seemed to be very fascinated with a box of frozen waffles. As she got closer to him, she teasingly asked, "Anything I can help you with?"

"No, noth-" He started to say until he turned his head and his eyes landed on her blue ones. "Hey, I guess that Ray guy did find you."

She let out a small laugh, "It's Jay, and are you going to purchase that because if James sees you holding that for more than five minutes and then putting it back, he'll be sure to give you a piece of his mind."

He mockingly clenched his teeth, "Then I guess I better put this back. Did you know that there are approximately 400 new frozen food products produced every year?"

Amused, she played along, "No I didn't. But I don't think you came all the way out just to talk to me about frozen meals."

Tristan lifted his hands up into an _"I surrender"_ mode and said, "Alright, alright, red-handed." He placed his arms down, "I came to see how you were doing, you're extremely smart but you're a horrible liar. You weren't fine today."

"No I wasn't." She agreed with him. "Thanks for today, you know, the thing with Paris."

"She's wrong you know, you have everything it takes to excel in The Franklin if not even better." He encouraged.

Their light moment was interrupted by a ring tone, presumably his.

He retrieved the silver mobile from his pant pocket and flips it open, "Hello…yea I be back soon…alright bye." He snapped it shut and turned to her. "Sorry, but I have to go now."

"There's nothing to be sorry for." She smiled at him. "I should get back to stocking the tissue boxes. Well, I see you tomorrow." She turned around and walked down the aisle, she halted in her steps when he called her.

"Yea?" She raised her voice; the distance between their bodies was larger.

"I also came to give you a personal _Répondez s'il vous plait_." He spoke; his voice huskily spoke out the four French words to her.

It took her about a few seconds to know what he was talking about, when she did, she replied, "You don't have to come if you don't want to."

In the same husky tone he said, "But I do."


End file.
